Chapter 9

"I... I don't know how to start, Ryan... I guess... just thanks for coming?" Carrie said hesitantly. She was sitting at the small picnic table in the shade of the big pecan tree. The visitor area for the prison camp was a pleasant, well-maintained grassy area between headquarters building and one of the dormitories where the inmates were housed.

"The only condition your attorney insisted on finally was that I was to deliver your copy of the decree to you personally," Ryan replied in an even tone.

He was trying hard not to interject any acrimony into what he was sure would be the last time he would see his ex-wife. The provision for him to deliver the documents to Carrie had, in fact, been the only thing she'd asked for.

She hadn't attempted to get in touch with him after the night she and Sean Michaels had been ambushed at the nightclub. Even when she'd been indicted, she'd never tried to contact him. That had been Ryan's wish, though he'd been a little surprised she hadn't at least tried.

"And now I find out I can't actually do what you wanted me to do," Ryan remarked. "The visitor regulations won't allow me to bring in any paperwork or... well... anything but about what I've got on," he explained.

"Yes, I learned about that after I got here," Carrie replied, "and they already told me you got special permission to just drop it off with the staff instead of mailing it like the rules say. I appreciate that. I really do."

Ryan shrugged uncomfortably. What Carrie appreciated was of no concern to him anymore. Her betrayal had pushed him away from her and he no longer cared.

He glanced around the visitor's area. Bryan Women's Federal Prison Camp was a minimum-security prison. There weren't any of the watchtowers, tall fences, and barbed wire he'd thought he would see. The only thing separating the facility from the surrounding community was a standard chain link fence no different from those found dividing one back yard from another in a suburban neighborhood.

The outside walls of all the buildings were a beige stucco with red tile roofs, typical of southwest architecture. The grass was lush and green, the trees tall with spreading boughs that provided abundant shade beneath them. The grounds were well kept. He couldn't see a scrap of paper or debris of any kind. The place looked pleasant and low key. Ryan wondered what it was like from the inside.

"So... what do we do now?" Carrie asked softly.

Her hands were in her lap and she sat erect with her back straight. According to the rules, she wouldn't have been allowed to touch Ryan after a brief hug. She'd known Ryan wouldn't have put up with that, so they'd settled for murmured hellos. Carrie was highly conscious of being under the scrutiny of the prison staff.

"We don't do anything, Carrie," Ryan replied quickly, shifting his gaze back to her. "There is no "we" anymore. That's what a divorce is all about."

Carrie's eyes dropped. She was disappointed but not devastated. It had been expected.

"Ryan, I'm really, really sorry I've screwed things up for us. What I did was wrong and I'm sorry for having done it. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please believe me... I never meant to hurt you."

Ryan shrugged. He adjusted his sunglasses. The sun was high overhead and reflected off the pale walls into his eyes.

"I'm a little confused, Carrie," Ron replied. "Since you want to talk about it... exactly how did you think screwing your boss would not hurt me?"

Carrie winced. She bit her lips for a moment.

"You weren't ever supposed to find out, Ryan. I know that sounds stupid now, but I thought if you didn't know about it... then it was like..."

She broke off, trying to find the words to express what she was feeling.

"No harm, no foul?" Ryan suggested.

Carrie nodded slowly after thinking about the phrase for a bit. She wasn't happy with the expression, but it did say sort of what she'd felt at the time.

Ryan snorted softly. He swiveled his body around on the bench and tucked his knees under the table. For the first time, he faced his ex-wife head on. He didn't know her. In her neatly pressed, issue khaki pants and green shirt, she was alien to him. He didn't know if he'd ever seen her in a shirt with all the buttons done up before.

Her face was thinner than he remembered. The faint freckles across her nose seemed darker somehow. Her green eyes seemed too big for her face now. Her blond hair, cropped even shorter than she'd worn it on the outside, was limp and lifeless. He'd noticed her five foot, three-inch frame seemed slightly stooped, as if she carried an enormous load. She was a stranger, a stranger who had wronged him.

"What you did was still wrong, Carrie," he said brusquely, "whether I knew or not.

Ryan stopped and shut his eyes. He tried to control his breathing. This wasn't getting anyone anywhere.

"Sorry... I don't know why I bother," he said after a bit. "I get pissed when I hear people say what someone doesn't know won't hurt them. It does hurt, it's just that someone hasn't realized it yet."

"I know," Carrie said delicately. "I didn't know it then... but I do now."

Ryan shrugged.

"Too little, too late, Carrie," he said. There was no sympathy in his voice. Carrie winced.

"Yes... you're right," she said unhappily. "I can't change what I did, hon... Ryan. But, I'm being punished big time now. I guarantee you, it won't happen again."

Ryan shook his head.

"Huh uh. You're being punished for lying to a Federal investigator, not for wrecking our marriage... and Sharon Michael's marriage. Don't even go there."

Ryan shifted his body around and prepared to get to his feet.

"And if you're talking about our divorce... that's just an administrative detail... that's all there is to it. It's not punishment. You killed our marriage. I just got a judge to confirm it with his signature on a piece of paper, that's all." His face held compassion at all.

Carrie looked at him unhappily. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes.

"I know, Ryan, I know. I've really screwed things up and there's nothing I can do to fix it," she said in a low voice. She was trying to keep from crying.

Ryan's shoulders lifted and fell in a long shrug.

"Life's about choices, Carrie. You made a bunch of bad ones and now you have to live with them," he said. He made sure his tone wasn't accusatory. There was no point.

"There's no chance we... after I get out... could... ?" Carrie blurted.

Ryan shook his head decisively. He took off his sunglasses for the first time. He put them carefully down on the tabletop.

"I don't really want to be cold and... mean spirited, I guess are the words to use," he said slowly. "There's nothing to be gained and it would be a waste of time."

"Look, Carrie... uh... I'll be getting married next week."

Carrie was taken aback, shocked at the news. She hadn't expected this. It had never occurred to her Ryan would move on... and if it had, she wouldn't have thought it would be this soon.

"I... I don't know what to say," she choked out. "I hope... I hope you'll be very happy," she finally said. The tears were threatening to cascade from the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks.

"I didn't mean it to come out like that," Ryan said in a half-apologetic tone. "I thought I'd seen you a letter some time in the future and... oh, hell... I don't know what I thought."

After a long silence, Carrie got control of herself. It was something she couldn't have done before. The discipline here at the prison was having an effect on her only a short time into her sentence.

"I... I do hope you and... what's her name?" she asked. "If that's not too... ?"

"Consuela," Ryan answered. "Consuela Robertson."

"Consuela... that's a beautiful name," Carrie said with no bitterness in her voice. "I really do hope you'll be very happy," she said, trying to smile.

A confused expression came over her face and Ryan nodded when he saw it.

"You know her," he said quietly.

"She used to work for the bank. She was one of that group of men and women who filed sexual harassment suits against him and the others. My lawyer dug up a lot of information on them. We... Consuela and I... met, and the rest is history, I guess."

Ryan had half-expected the subject of his impending marriage to come up in his meeting with Carrie. Any comments would naturally have included his fiancée's name. The well-crafted statement was not technically incorrect in any respect. Neither was it in the least accurate.

Carrie looked at Ryan a long time without commenting.

"Well... I still... I hope you'll both be very happy," she said finally. "I'm sure she won't hurt you like I have," she added. A trace of bitterness was in her words this time as well as her tone.

Ryan ignored it. Carrie had lost the right to be bitter about his choices. He stood but didn't immediately leave.

"I won't be coming here again," he said. "Consuela and I... well... you know." Carrie nodded her understanding. "Well... goodbye, Carrie," he said. "I hope... I hope when you get out of here, things turn out good for you."

"Thank you, Ryan. I appreciate that," Carrie replied. She stood also but made sure to keep the picnic table between them.

Ryan nodded and turned away. He took a step and halted. After a long moment, he turned back to face his ex-wife.

"Carrie... there's something I don't understand. You don't have to answer if you don't want to... but... why? Why did you even take up with that jerk in the first place?"

Carrie had expected this to be one of the first questions Ryan asked. She'd thought she would be a little careful with her answer, but there was no longer any reason for that. Ryan had made it clear there was no future for their relationship as she'd hoped. Still, she hesitated for a short while.

"I didn't start out to cheat on you," she said frankly. "I was happy. It looked like we were getting back to where we were before... before the first time."

She glanced up at her ex-husband guiltily. So far this afternoon, they hadn't explored the fact that this was the second adulterous affair she'd engaged in.

"I concentrated on just us for the longest time," she said, plowing on.

"Then I got a nice promotion at the bank... and then I lucked into a couple of other things... more responsibility and the perks to go along with them. I... well, Ryan, I liked being in charge of things and I could see where I could go higher in the... management there."

She lifted her hands helplessly. Her face was twisted with distaste.

"It was so wrong, but I figured out Sean Michaels was my ticket upstairs and I... I decided I'd let him... that I'd have sex with him. The money was getting better--almost as much as you were bringing home, you know?

"It wasn't like he was a very good person, Ryan. I never thought he was. I was never in love with him. In fact, he was a pretty rotten individual... I read somewhere that people always "affair-down." They... we... have affairs with people who make ourselves look good by comparison. I guess that's true. It's what I did.

"Once involved with him... it was easy to get on an ego trip, Ryan," she said wearily. "I started to believe the world I shared with just him was fine. I thought he and I knew who we were and exactly what we wanted out of life. I had this confidence I didn't have before... you see? It wasn't true, but that's how I felt." Carrie's face and tone showed a deep unhappiness.

"It... I can't justify it, Ryan. I was caught up in getting that next promotion and being happy with someone else giving me attention. I think I went a little crazy. I'm sorry, I really am."

Ryan took a moment to digest what she'd said. He shook his head.

"And the things people have told me about the way you talked about me... about our life together?" he asked carefully. He had to phrase it that way. There was no way he could even hint he'd heard her spiteful remarks on the tape recorder and the videos he'd made of her and Sean early on.

Carrie stared at him in surprise. She'd not anticipated this. She thought for a minute.

"I... well... guilt, I guess," she said finally. "I didn't feel good about what I was doing at first... I think I started picking fights with you and stuff so I could just keep going. After a while, it didn't... I didn't feel so guilty anymore if I could blame you... you know?"

"I began to see everything a different. Every time you were short with me or didn't agree with me... whether it was real or imagined... it gave me an excuse to see one more thing in a bad light. It got to be easy to make myself the victim. I started seeing you as holding me back, pressuring me to be something I couldn't be. I saw you still weren't trusting me from the first affair and I began to resent it. I thought you were trying to control me.

"Then, in my mind, what I was doing wasn't so bad. I mean, if I made myself believe you were the bad guy, then how could I be at fault, right? It helped make my guilt a little less each time I did something I shouldn't. I needed that. I couldn't have kept on without it... and I had to keep on. It was like an... uh... a compulsion or something.

"I... I don't know what else to say, Ryan. It was wrong, but I couldn't see it at the time. It was like being in a fog... and I couldn't find my way out. I didn't mean to put my husband second to another man, but I was delusional. I did it... and I'm so ashamed."

Ryan gazed at her a moment longer. He shook his head.

"You rewrote most of our history together," he told her, "from what I've been able to gather. Some of our former friends have told me a lot of what you said was pretty damned vicious." He looked at her unhappily. "And it was all because you were wanting to prostitute yourself to get ahead huh?"

"What?" Carrie protested, shocked. "I never..."